


the less i know the better

by jwangel



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Connor Murphy & Zoe Murphy Get Along, Drug Dealing, F/F, M/M, Marijuana, Mental Health Issues, Recreational Drug Use, Soft Connor Murphy (Dear Evan Hansen)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:14:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26873500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jwangel/pseuds/jwangel
Summary: What if the Murphy family wasn’t a total mess? What if Connordidsell weed, and what if he found Evan Hansen stupidly hot right from the get go? What if?
Relationships: Alana Beck/Zoe Murphy, Evan Hansen & Jared Kleinman, Evan Hansen/Connor Murphy
Comments: 15
Kudos: 65





	1. Chapter 1

Connor doesn’t usually indulge in the morning like this.

Smoke curls up lazily from where the remnants of a joint rests between his fingers, Connor taking one final pull before stubbing the roach out into the ashtray on his desk with a twist of his wrist.

The first day of senior year deserves some exceptions, he supposes.

His phone goes off somewhere across the room and Connor slowly stands up, rubbing the buzzing feeling out from behind his eyes. He finds it on the bed where he left it, face down, rumbling against the sheets. Flipping it over, Connor peers through the sudden brightness, scanning over the name and message that pops up on the screen, a frown pulling at his lips.

Miguel 7:33AM _Can we hang out soon? ; )_

Connor huffs out an annoyed breath, and takes a moment to consider whether today will be the day he finally deletes the number from his phone for good.

Zoe likes to make it a point to remind him, often and loudly, that most people don’t semi-regularly meet up with their ex just to sell them weed. Because _most people_ wouldn’t consider that type of behavior abundantly healthy seeing how messy of a breakup it was. Worst still, since Connor hasn’t dated anyone seriously since. Hasn’t really felt like it would go any way but disastrously if he tried. And that’s not to say that there haven’t been other guys, a few girls, but nothing serious, nothing that hasn’t fizzled out long before anyone could get close. 

Connor’s pretty convinced he’s not the sort of person capable of falling in love. Thinks that if he were, it would have probably happened with Miguel.

Because, if Connor’s being honest, Miguel had been kind of perfect.

The kind of boyfriend the universe only gives you so that you’ll know true lost for the rest of your days, kind of perfect. Caring, funny, supportive. The total package.

Connor texts back a short and impersonal _be free around 8_ and leaves it at that, because fuck, it’s too early to deal with this shit. He finishes getting dressed, pulling a clean t-shirt roughly over his head, and he’s just about to gather his books when a knock at his door distracts him.

“What is it?” he bites out, cramming a stray textbook into his backpack.

The door swings open and a moment later, Zoe sticks her head inside, a sheepish smile pulling at her lips. Her hair is pulled up in a messy bun, flyaway strands falling around her face, making her look wild and uncharacteristically unkempt. “Hey, do you wanna leave early and we can go through the McDonald’s drive thru for breakfast?”

Zoe always gets a little giddy on first days, which makes sense considering her almost pathological involvement in school affairs. She’s practically bouncing in his doorway, excitement thrumming through her slight frame as she waits for his answer. Connor can admit that she’s obscenely cute when she gets like this, her enthusiasm unfairly endearing.

Adjusting his tone, Connor forces a something like a flash of teeth, not wanting to ruin her good mood. “Yeah, just give me a minute.”

“Cool,” she says, nodding. She bites her lip, grinning up at him. “I offered Alana a ride too, so we’ll pick her up first.”

Connor hums, an acknowledgement that he’s heard but rapidly loosing interest in the conversation. His attention wanders back to forcing his shit into his backpack.

Zoe doesn’t seem to mind, twirling around on the spot, leaving an empty space in his doorway as she disappears down the hall. “Don’t take forever,” she calls out, her voice growing smaller as the distance between them widens. 

Her footsteps thud against the staircase as she goes.

*

They hold hands across the center console.

Connor watches their fingers tangle together from the backseat, swallowing the bitter taste rising in the back of his throat. 

Jealousy really is an ugly sort of feeling, he thinks, trying to shake it off. 

It’s not Zoe’s fault that she found the perfect girl only a few weeks into her sophomore year and he can’t begrudge either of them for wanting to spend every waking moment together. Young love is all consuming like that. Connor remembers what he had been like when things with Miguel had still been going well, before things went to shit. 

Besides, Alana is cool.

He likes how when Connor smokes her and Zoe out, she always fights for the remote, insisting that they watch Planet Earth for the millionth time while they’re couch-bound and mellow. When the munchies hit, she’s the first to make her way into the kitchen, and always comes back with enough of whatever she’s cooked up for everyone. She’s smart and funny and honestly Connor is happy that Zoe lucked out as completely as she did when she managed to lock down Alana.

Still, it’d be cool if they didn’t shove their happiness in his face quite as often as they seemed to.

“Alana,” Connor says, tearing his gaze away from their clasped fingers. “You sure I can’t interest you in a back-to-school edible? Family and friends discount.”

In the passenger seat, Alana sucks orange juice from a bright red straw, turning her head toward Connor with an amused look.

“Did you know,” she says, releasing her straw with a slick pop, “that the reason pot edibles are more potent than simple inhalation is because THC is absorbed into the bloodstream from your gut and then travels to your liver where it metabolizes into a more potent psychoactive metabolite?” She pauses, grinning at Connor excitedly. “Well, that and the fact that commercial as well as homemade edibles tend to vary vastly in the concentration of THC used in a single product, making it extremely difficult for consumers to dose responsibly.”

“Riveting.” Connor snorts, not unkindly, leaning forward to rest his arm against the back of her seat. “But is that a yes or a no?”

Alana cranes her head to the side, her eyes lighting up as though just remembering something.

“Do you have any of those Fruity Krispy Treat bars left? Like the ones you brought to Kat Sinclair’s Summer Solstice party?” Her gaze gets that far away look again, and Alana sighs deeply, “Those were amazing.”

Pulling back, Connor drags down the zipper of the exterior pocket of his backpack, reaching inside with a grin.

“Last one just for you,” Connor says, tossing the bar into her lap.

“Dammit, I love those too,” Zoe mutters, taking her eyes off the road for a second, just long enough to look longingly down at the treat in her girlfriend’s lap. “Fruity Krisps are a highly underrated cereal.”

Alana’s face breaks out into another grin, clutching the bar protectively between her fingers. “ _Highly_ underrated is right, but if you want I’ll split it with you at the jazz band fundraiser on Wednesday.”

Zoe glances back over at her, excitedly. “Yes, please?”

“Of course, baby.” Alana coos, leaning over to plant a loud kiss on Zoe’s cheek.

One more display of affection and Connor swears he’s going to throw himself out of the goddamn car.

“Not to be an asshole,” Connor bursts out, clipped and fast and weirdly hostile, “but you two are honestly hard to watch sometimes.”

Zoe makes a face at him through the review mirror, clearly inviting him to shut the fuck up.

“You could be disgustingly cute with someone too, if you pulled your head out of your ass long enough to give anyone a chance,” she chides him, dismissively, re-lacing her fingers through Alana’s. “You turned down so many people this summer, you’re almost in the double digits. Not our fault you’re self-sabotaging.”

“I really thought you and Leo would’ve hit it off.” Alana chimes in, shifting in her seat to look back at him. “He mopped around for like a week in journalism after you ghosted him. It takes a lot of guts to ask someone out in front of everyone.”

“Fuck Leo. I could tell right off the bat he was just in it for the connect,” Connor whines, pressing his cheek against the window. “And that’s not me being self-deprecating. I’m well aware that I’m dateable as fuck, but all anyone wants at this school is a direct line to my weed supply, so yeah, fucking pass.”

Zoe mutters out a “ _dateable as fuck, huh?_ ”, but Alana clears her throat, shooting Zoe a sharp look across the console.

“You know, Connor,” Alana begins carefully, as though she’s addressing some wayward child, “I think it’d be really good for you to challenge some of these limiting beliefs of yours. I think you could be pleasantly surprised if you just let yourself be open with someone. 

“With who?” Connor huffs, sullenly, “I’ve worked my way through all the viable options already—”

Zoe cuts him off with a loud _bullshit_ , and Connor goes still and tense in the backseat, upper lip curling into a sneer before he can help himself.

“Don’t look at me like that!” Zoe huffs, sending him a glare through the mirror. “You only fuck people at parties. Maybe there’s some sweet mathlete out there waiting to put the moves on you.”

“Don’t shove people in boxes, Zoe. Nerds party too.” Is Connor’s quick comeback, feeling defensive despite himself.

“I’m just saying that there’s a wide swathe of people at school that you haven’t really given much thought to.” Zoe goes on. “Honestly, after what happened with Miguel, you should really just—”

“Zozo,” Alana butts in, quickly, eyes slanting back at Connor, none-too-subtly checking for his reaction. “We promised Connor we’d stop bringing him up.”

“Can we literally talk about anything else?” Connor asks loudly, irritation edging into his voice. “This is becoming excruciating.”

“Fine.” Zoe snaps, gripping the steering wheel tightly, her knuckle going pale where the circulation has cut off. “Are we all still going to the Pinc Louds show on Saturday?”

“Yeah, I already got us tickets.” Connor grunts, directing his gaze out the window.

“Thanks, Connor.” Alana says. “I’m really excited.”

“Yeah, me too.” Zoe adds, even though it sounds as if the words are forced out between her teeth. There’s a moment of silence, and then, “Sorry I overstepped. I didn’t mean to.”

Connor bumps his forehead against the glass, and sighs, “It’s okay. Sorry I was being a shit.”

Zoe lets out a soft laugh, “You’re fine.”

“You guys are ridiculous.” Alana adds in for good measure.

“You love it,” Connor grunts, proceeding to shut his eyes and tune them out.

*

Zoe and Alana abandon him pretty much as soon as they’re through the school doors, disappearing down an adjacent corridor.

Connor rolls his eyes, but he isn’t bothered. He claps hands with a few of his regulars in the hall as he heads towards his locker, avoiding a few searching looks as he goes.

“I’m loving the hair, Murphy.” A voice calls out as he turns the corner, and Connor feels a grin spread across his face as he glances up to see Jared Kleinman running his mouth across the way. 

The little shit grins widely as Connor approaches. “Very stoner chic.”

He doesn’t have a problem with Kleinman as a general rule. The kid is loud and obnoxious and gives off an insecure and closeted vibe that Connor has the upmost sympathy for, even if he can’t fully relate to it. Connor realized his queerness pretty early on, young enough not to suffer any of the unsavory hang-ups that can sometimes come with the territory.

“You think so, Kleinman?” Connor asks, feigning ignorance. “The guys like something to grab onto when I go down—”

“Jesus Christ, Connor. TMI.” Jared interrupts, cheeks tinged with pink, “Literally no one needs to hear that.”

Connor snorts. “Says you. Your dad didn’t have any complaints.”

Kleinman’s face goes a beet red color and Connor is a second away from cackling because _fuck_ is this kid easy, when he hears a soft chuckle from behind him and Connor proceeds to forget what he was just doing entirely.

He turns, curiosity getting the better of him, seeking out the source of the noise, when his eyes land on a literal, goddamn _angel_ and his heart stutters to a halt.

The kid is all wide-eyed innocence, soft features, and honey brown hair Connor figures anyone with half a brain would want to run their fingers through given the chance. Something about him is exceedingly familiar, but Connor can’t quite put his finger on what, and can’t bring a name to mind either. Nevertheless, he feels drawn in, unable to curb the sudden urge to get closer and find out where this gorgeous creature has been hiding for the past year.

The boy’s mouth opens, a shocked little _oh_ as Connor takes a step toward him.

“You hear something funny, sweetheart?” Connor croons, all soft and inviting, because the guy looks like he’s a second away from bolting and Connor doesn’t want him going anywhere before he’s gotten a chance to shoot his shot. “I know you, right? Where have I seen you before?”

It seems to take the other boy a moment to respond, almost as if he’s too shocked at being addressed at all to parse through Connor’s questions. He blinks, deep blue eyes flitting over Connor’s face briefly and then to the side, avoidant and maybe a little fearful. “Nothing,” he says, a little nonsensically, then seeming to realize his blunder, shakes his head and quickly corrects, “I mean, nowhere!”

 _Goddamn adorable_ , Connor thinks, moving closer. “No, that can’t be right.”

He’s close enough now that the boy is practically wedged between him and the lockers, nowhere left for him to retreat. This close, Connor catches the scent of pine and something citrusy, and just as suddenly as he registers how nice the other boy smells, a memory pops into his head.

“Oh fuck, you worked at Ellison Park this summer, didn’t you?” Connor sees the way the other boy tenses up, the way his shoulders rise to form a harsh horizontal line, but now that his memory is catching up with him, his mouth is running without much input from his brain. “You busted me and my friend for lighting up on the trail, right?”

Busted is a poor choice of word, maybe. More like, he had timidly suggested Connor and the _friend_ he’d been groping in the bushes take their party somewhere else before shyly escorting them back to the site parking lot. Connor’s eyes had been glued to the boy’s ass for a good half mile before his date had noticed and promptly elbowed him in the gut for it.

“You in that cute little ranger uniform. Can’t believe they let you walk around like that.” Connor bites his lip just thinking about it. “Remind me again what your name is, sweetheart?”

Maybe there’s something wrong with him for thinking that there’s something undeniably attractive about the way the other boy’s face turns a cherubic peach color at his words, but honestly, how can he _not_. This kid is cute, cute, cute.

The other boy bites his lips too, looking anxious, no doubt weighing his options, before admitting, “Evan. Evan Hansen.”

“Evan.” Connor repeats, rolling the name around in his mouth, enjoying the feel of it. “I’m Connor,” he says, introducing himself even though he has no doubt that his reputation precedes him. “You know, you did us a big favor that day, letting us go with just a warning.” He moves a little closer, crowding the other boy even further back into the wall of lockers behind him. “I really should repay you for your generosity.”

“That’s really unnecessary.” Evan stammers, looking down at the floor like it suddenly demands his attention.

“Modest too.” Connor grins, reaching out to tip the other boy’s chin back up, their eyes meeting. “I fucking love that.”

Evan’s flush only seems to deepen, and Connor is absolutely _smitten_ when a voice calls out from behind them, interrupting the moment.

“Hey, Connor. I need to speak to you, man. C’mon.”

Connor could give a shit about anything other than the beautiful mess of a person in front of him, wishing the other person would read the fucking room and just fuck off.

“I’ll catch you later, all right?” Connor tosses over his shoulder impatiently, keeping his eyes fixed on Evan, taking in the severity of his blush hungrily, entranced. 

“No, dude. I gotta speak to you, it’s important.” A hand lands on his shoulder, tugging him back around, and Connor feels his hackles rise as he interrupted again. “I’ll be real quick. Super quick, okay—”

Connor turns on the guy, a snarl on his lips, his hand clenched into a fist. “Back the fuck off, would you?”

“Sorry, sorry.” The guy says, hands flying up in surrender. “I swear I’ll be quick!”

Disoriented and feeling slightly feral, Connor sucks in a calming breath, only just realizing that he _knows_ this guy.

“You have my number, dipshit.” Connor growls. “Use it.”

The guy shakes his head, looking miserable but determined. “Please, Connor. I just need to talk to you really quick.”

Connor swallows around an increasing urge to scream at the unfairness of it all. “I don’t talk business at school, asshole.”

The guy shakes his head. “Connor, it really can’t wait.”

“Fuck.” Connor hisses, turning back to where Evan is still pressed back against the lockers.

“Hey, I’ll be right back, all right?” He says quickly, feeling breathless and more out of control than he’d prefer in this kind of situation. “Don’t go anywhere, I want to talk to you, okay? So, stay right here until I'm done. You understand?”

Evan looks up at him, eyes wide and impossibly blue. He doesn’t say anything, but Connor doesn’t wait for an answer, ripping himself away to deal with the asshole waiting for him on the other side of the hall.

The guy talks and talks and Connor listens, a low thrum building beneath his skin the longer their conversation goes. Something about certain blacklisters spewing a load of shit over the summer. It’s nothing Connor is overly worried about, but something he’ll be glad to get ahead of if it ends up meaning trouble for him down the line.

He thanks the dude, pats him on the back, all the while searching anxiously for the boy with blue eyes and blushing face.

But when he looks up, Evan is nowhere to be seen.

*

It takes a bit of asking around, but Connor finds him again before the day is over.

As it turns out, Hansen and him share a free period, and when Connor goes searching he finds him in the computer lab at a table in the corner, hunched over a laptop.

“I thought I told you not to go anywhere.” He says, lightly, coming to a stop in front of the other boy’s table.

Evan whips his head up, clearly projecting a deer caught in headlights energy that almost makes Connor regret creeping up on him.

“S-sorry.” The boy stutters out, folding his laptop shut hastily, clumsily pushing away from the small study table to rise to his feet.

His eyes are so big. Worried and wide like a fucking puppy.

“Don’t be sorry.” Connor says, gently, feeling clumsy and overeager. He rounds the table slowly, makes sure they’re close enough that Evan doesn’t get any ideas about darting away just yet, but far enough that the other boy can breath. “Do I make you nervous, sweetheart?”

Evan shakes his head, then nods, then shakes his head again, obviously not knowing how to answer, and there’s a huge blush spreading on his face, making its way down his neck. “I— No?”

Connor laughs, sways closer another inch, and taps a finger against Evan’s cast, gentle enough not to hurt, drawing his attention down.

“You didn’t have this back in July. How’d that happen?”

“I fell out of a tree.”

“You fell out of a tree?” Connor repeats back, mildly amused. “Sweetheart, why’d you go and do that?”

Evan goes unexpectedly rigid, body jerking almost violently back.

“It was an a-a-accident.” Evan clarifies quickly, and suddenly he’s breathing in this short, and kind of panicky fucked up way that has Connor worried he’s about to have an attack of some sort, but then Evan swallows hard, and manages to continue, “I-I was c-climbing this, like, 40 foot oak, and, uh, the branch broke. That’s how it, yeah. That’s h-how it happened.”

“That sucks.” Connor ends up saying, a bit lamely.

He not sure what exactly about the question freaked the other boy out, but he seems to be thrumming with _something_ , and it's not at all what Connor intended. 

“Yeah.” Evan agrees, nodding a little overeagerly.

A change of subject is probably for the best. “So, you seeing someone, Hansen?”

“What, like a therapist?”

Connor laughs, “No, not like a therapist. Are you dating anyone?”

Evan looks genuinely confused for a moment, the gears turning in his head. “No. Why?”

Connor shifts a little closer. “I just assumed, a boy like you, probably had someone.”

Evan’s shoulders drop, as do his eyes. “Why w-would you assume that?”

“Because you’re pretty fucking adorable.” Connor says, doesn’t know how to be anything but honest about it. “It’s kind of hard to believe no one’s snatched you up already.”

Evan doesn’t respond right away. He takes a sharp breath, like he’s going to, but he lets the air go without a word. “That’s— I can’t tell if you’re making fun or me or not.”

Connor huffs out an amused laugh. “I’m definitely not.” Wrenching his eyes away from the utter delight that is Evan’s blushing face, Connor’s gaze dips down to the other boy’s arm for a moment. “Do you think I could sign your cast?”

“What?” Evan asks, forehead creasing.

“No one’s signed it yet.” Connor points out. “I wanna be the first.”

“You don’t have to.” Evan says quickly, looking at him nervously as he bites his lip.

Connor lets his grin widen and watches the blush creep up Evan’s cheeks a little higher. “I want to, gorgeous. You’ve got a sharpie, right?”

Evan fumbles with a pen that he pulls from his pocket and Connor makes sure to grasp Evan’s forearm lightly, just enough to keep the cast stable as he writes.

“There. Perfect.” He says, pulling away, capping the marker.

Evan inspects his work curiously. “Is that your number?”

“Sure is. Call me or text me anytime.”

Evan’s face lightens a touch, but not all the way. “Oh, uh, thanks?”

Connor feels his grin widen anyway. “We should hang out.”

“Like right now?” Evan asks, and his lips twitch again, like he wants to smile, but he’s holding back.

Connor’s heart clenches, because Jesus Christ is this guy cute. “No, not right now. Like after school.”

“I can’t.” Evan says, and suddenly the almost smile is gone completely, a frown taking its place.

Connor feels a stab of disappointment at that, but doesn’t let it get him down for long. “Why not? You’ve got plans or something?”

Evan lets out a long, painful sounding sigh, looking up at Connor with an almost wary expression.

“I do, actually, see a therapist.” Evan answers slowly, watching Connor carefully, as though looking for a reaction. “That’s why I got confused earlier, and uh,” Evan swallows, face growing pinched, “I have an appointment after school.”

It’s not what Connor expected, but he can roll with it.

“Well, damn.” He says. “Tomorrow then?”

A weird sort of laugh, spills out of Evan’s mouth, and suddenly the other boy is looking at him as though Connor’s grown a second head. “It doesn’t bother you?”

Connor shrugs, not understanding what the big deal is. “You said you were busy, I think I can wait a day.”

“No, I mean…” Evan starts, chest rising as he seems to gather himself. “It doesn’t bother you that I go to therapy?”

This time it’s Connor who lets out a barking sort of laugh, smile splitting his face. “Are you kidding me? Half the people that go to this school should be in therapy. You’re actually putting in the work. It’s fucking hot, Hansen.”

Evan rolls his eyes, but there’s something pleased about his expression that Connor drinks in greedily, happy to have been responsible for it.

“This is yours, by the way.” Connor says, remembering the paper clutched in his hand. “I was over by the printer and I saw that it had your name on it. Thought I’d save you the trip.”

Evan lurches forward suddenly, snatching the paper from Connor’s grip. 

“Sorry,” Evan says, looking up and no doubt taking in Connor’s look of surprise. “It’s an assignment for therapy to help with my, uh, anxiety? _Dear Evan Hansen, today’s going to be a good day and here’s why_ —” Evan stops suddenly, heaving another breath. “It’s stupid.”

His cheeks are practically blazing now that he’s finished, and Connor heart pangs sympathetically.

“Maybe a little.” Connor agrees tentatively, then pauses, realizing how it might come across. He had meant it playfully, but he doesn’t want the other boy to mistake him, even for a moment. “So, why was today a good day?” He asks, keeping his tone light and easy.

“Mostly it wasn’t.” Evan admits. His lips twitch, just like before, but he doesn’t smile. “But I guess it could’ve been worse.”

“Not that you asked, but my day’s been fantastic.” Connor tells him, voice low like he’s telling a secret. “I finally talked to this mystery boy I’ve had a crush on all summer, and it turns out he’s even more of a loveable dork than I could’ve imagined. Can you believe it?”

It’s then that Evan laughs for real. The sound is rough, mostly bewildered, a little touched, and the smile he directs toward Connor afterward is shy and hopeful.

Fuck if it doesn’t make Connor’s heart _clench_.

“I don’t know how to take anything you say seriously.” Evan says softly, still fighting the smile pulling at his lips and failing.

“Just go with it.” Connor suggests, feeling happier than he has all summer. “You’ll get used to it.”


	2. Chapter 2

It’s not that Evan had never heard of Connor Murphy before yesterday. 

His first introduction to him was actually a YouTube video that Jared had pulled up on his phone one afternoon in Evan’s living room. His hair is shorter in the clip, tidy and smoothed back. 

He looks handsome. 

That’s the first opinion Evan forms of him.

Nice jaw, high cheekbones, soulful eyes.

The second is that he’s absolutely ruthless in a fight, and it’s after that Evan makes a mental note to stay clear of Connor Murphy at all cost.

*

“He’s queer, you know?” Jared had whispered to him once, after seeing Connor pass them in the hall.

The words, when they had registered, had hit him with a violence, and Evan remembers flinching so hard it felt like his teeth had rattled with the force of it.

“D-don’t call him that,” Evan had spat out in a rare show of anger. He had thought then that he knew what Jared was getting at, and the thought of it, the intention behind it, it had been like a vice on Evan’s lungs.

But Jared had only looked at him with confusion. “It’s not a bad thing.”

Evan remembers shaking his head. “My dad, he used to—”

“Your dad is a fucking asshole, Evan.” Jared had said quickly, cutting him off. “Fuck him.”

Jared’s open disdain for Evan’s father was nothing new, but it was comforting, and in that moment Evan had felt himself relax in the presence of it, even if he still didn’t understand.

“It doesn’t mean what it used to,” Jared had explained tentatively. He had been so nervous then. So wary of hurting Evan, even by accident. “Not like how your dad used it. Just that Connor Murphy isn’t straight, he’s something else.” 

_Something else._

At Evan’s uncomprehending expression, Jared had hesitated, “I promise it isn’t derogatory.”

“Okay.” Evan had said in the end because he trusted Jared with this much.

It had taken awhile for him to absorb though, to wrap his head around it.

The idea of being _something else_.

And the longer Evan had thought on it, the more it started to fit.

*

Evan remembers that day in Ellison Park.

His supervisor had sent him to patrol the east quadrant after lunch and about thirty minutes into his hike he had gotten a whiff of smoke. He didn’t have to walk far to find its source. 

Nothing could have prepared him for the sight awaiting him.

“You like what you see, tree boy?” Connor Murphy had asked after a painfully long silence. 

He’d been polite enough to detach himself from the other boy relatively quickly and Evan, too much of a coward to do anything other than stutter out a half-concocted reprimand about smoking-related fires in the park, had averted his gaze. Not quickly enough though. Not before seeing the mark low on Connor’s neck, red and angry and fresh. Not before wondering if it hurt, if that’s what Connor wanted.

The hike back to the site parking lot had been an exercise in endurance.

Because Evan had felt it then, hot on the back of his neck the entire way; the inexplicable but impossible to ignore sensation of knowing he was being watched.

_Are you looking?_ He had thought, leading the way.

Connor and the other boy had been somewhere behind him and everything had been quiet apart from the crunching of their shoes against the dirt of the trail.

Evan had looked back, only once, and when he had their eyes had collided for a brief moment.

Against the background of the park, Connor's eyes had been so impossibly blue.

He had smiled.

*

After their conversation in the computer lab, Evan spends way too long staring at the number written on his cast. Dr. Sherman, with his sharp, perceptive eyes notices and asks Evan if he’s willing to talk about it, but it feels so terribly private, and Evan declines with a shake of his head.

Later, much later, in his bedroom, Evan traces the numbers with finger almost a dozen times before he pulls his phone out and enters the digits into his contacts. He types out a message. Wants to say thanks, for what even he’s not sure, but the urge remains.

When he’s done, his thumb hovers over the send button, suspended somewhere between indecision and action. 

Fear, Dr. Sherman has told him many, many times, is the mind killer.

And Evan is terrified.

*

Mid-morning breaks are always a little difficult.

Most people socialize with friends, clog up the walkways with tightly huddled groups of chattering bodies. It’s always loud, gratingly so. Evan has to grit his teeth against the sheer volume that seems to rebound against the walls around him.

And today, Evan doesn’t have anyone to talk to.

Jared is somewhere. Not here. Probably coding in the library, if Evan were to guess.

It’s fine.

He’s staring down hard at his phone, scrolling aimlessly through his twitter feed without reading anything, when suddenly, right in his ear, a voice says, “Hello again, gorgeous.”

Evan’s head jerks up, startled.

And there, standing beside his locker is Connor Murphy.

His eyes linger on Evan’s face far too long, just beneath his eye line, taking in the gradual pinkening of his cheeks. Evan scrubs a hand across his face, self-conscious, wishfully thinking that he can wipe away the evidence.

All the while Connor watches, gaze intent. Evan’s pulse flickers oddly, charmed despite himself. 

This isn’t the kind of attention he’s used to but he can’t help but feel a little seduced by it with Connor looking at him the way he does. Evan knows he isn’t anything special to look at, and it’s possible – it’s pretty much the only explanation for _any of this_ – that this some kind of game. Connor seems like the kind of guy that flirts for sport, and Evan is the type of fool, stupid enough to fall for it.

Evan tries something simple back, like saying hello. He ends up saying, “Hi,” but like it’s a longer word than it is, dragging out the vowel, his voice high and hesitant.

Connor doesn’t seem to notice how insane he sounds, or at least doesn’t seem especially put off by it if he does, just continues to look at Evan in quiet amusement.

“I brought you a present,” he says after a moment, and it’s then that Evan notices one of Connor’s hands is out of view, holding something behind this back.

“Why would you do that?” Evan asks, confusion a searing sensation burning through his chest. Not embarrassment, not yet.

“It’s not a big deal,” Connor reassures him, offering what seems to be a book out for Evan to take. “Just saw it and thought of you.”

With some reluctance, Evan accepts the gift, feeling more than a little wary. He tries not to show it.

“This—” He looks down at the cover and melts just slightly when he sees what Connor has gotten him. “You didn’t need to do this.”

It’s a coloring book, one of the intricate ones with flowing, elaborate detail. Evan feels the slightest smile pull at his lips as his eyes scan over the title, National Parks written in big glossy letters across the front.

“Wanted to.” Connor says when Evan looks up again, like that should be obvious. “Do you like it?”

Evan _loves_ it. He clutches the book to his chest, as though Connor might take it back if he doesn’t.

He pauses, long enough to string his next words together carefully. “Connor, this is really thoughtful. Thank you.”

In return, Connor gives him a warm, pleased smile. “My sister loves these things, says they calm her when she’s wound up too tight. I thought you might enjoy having one around.”

Evan flexes his fingers over the book. Tries to slow his heartbeat just a little and figure out what exactly is happening and why.

“This isn’t a joke, is it?” Evan asks, careful, just to confirm.

All of this. The attention, the suddenness of it, the gift giving. It doesn’t feel real.

“Nope,” Connor says, shaking his head. The ‘p’ pops out of his mouth and Evan tries not to squirm as Connor’s gaze travels lazily down the length of his body. “I was kind of hoping all the aggressive flirting would have convinced you of that, but if you’re telling me I have to try harder I gladly accept the challenge.”

Now Evan’s blushing darkly, and there’s nothing he can do to hide it, still too busy trying to make sense of what Connor’s saying to him.

“Unless you’d rather I fuck off.” Connor continues, looking something other than perfectly confident for the first time since they’ve met. Uncertainty is a poor fit with his features. “It’s okay if you’re not interested,” he goes on, “Just let me down easy, I’m like, sensitive and shit.”

His eyes dart away from Evan’s for a moment. Long enough for Evan to miss.

“It’s not that. It’s just—” Evan’s voice comes out quieter than it should, and his heart feels strange and fluttery. “People don’t usually try this hard. I’m not— I’m nothing special. There are, like, so many other people at this school who are probably more worth your time.”

Connor’s face goes pensive, brow furrowing, but then his expression softens and he’s practically smirking at Evan once again. “None of them are you though, sweetheart.”

Evan’s breath catches in his throat and he feels a tug of warmth low in his stomach.

_Dangerous_ , Evan’s brain supplies while his heart races. Connor Murphy and his tempting words and handsome face are dangerous and if Evan’s not careful, he might do something stupid like believe.

“You—”

The bell rings, loud and jarring, an acoustic nightmare to his already frazzled senses. 

Evan’s words come to a sudden stop. There’s an ache in his throat now, a pressure on the vocal cords. He swallows.

“That’s the bell.” Connor notes, the disappointment in his voice clear. “I should probably walk you to class.”

He makes a gesture for Evan to lead the way, and not knowing what else to do, Evan begins to walk. Connor stays close to his side as they make their way down the hall, bumping their shoulders together as they go. He’s uncharacteristically quiet beside him, seemingly content just to quietly inhabit the same space for the moment. Evan is grateful for the silence. It gives him time to process.

It’s not long before they’re outside Evan’s classroom.

Evan comes to a halt by the door and watches as Connor turns toward him, a question in his eyes. It would be all too easy to disappear inside now and save himself any further humiliation, but Evan doesn’t, a part of him wanting to see this through. 

“I’ve never—” The words get lodged in his throat. “You know.”

Connor tries to fill in the blank. “Dated a boy?”

Evan flushes hotly, clears his throat and huffs. “Dated anyone.”

A wry grin breaks out across the other boy’s face. “Want to do something about that?”

“And you want to?” Evan blurts out, clumsily sidestepping the question by posing one of his own. “With me?”

“Well, yeah,” Connor says, smiling in a completely different way than before, careful and sincere. He reaches out, snagging Evan’s free hand within his own. “I want to get to know you, Hansen. I think we could have some fun together.”

Connor’s touch is light, his palm warm against Evan’s skin. Evan can’t remember a time when he’s been on the receiving end of such casual affection, and maybe it’s for this reason that every swipe of Connor’s thumb along the back of his hand feels electric, leaving his nerves almost tingling. It feels almost humiliating how much he likes something so simple.

An instinctive thought, well-known and burning, tells him not to trust the lovely feeling humming beneath his skin, the one that’s making his heart thud 3x too fast, and his breath feel caught somewhere high in his throat. 

But here Connor is, sweet and patient and determined to make sure Evan _gets it_ , understand that this isn’t some elaborate prank or expression of pity— that he can have this, whatever this is, if he wants it.

And he wants it.

Evan lets his fingers curl around Connor’s. “Okay.”

The smile Connor unleashes then seems entirely too surprised, like he can’t believe his luck. His own fingers squeeze around Evan’s in return. A sweet, joyful little pulse. “Yeah?”

Evan doesn’t know how to reply in the face of that smile, can’t even formulate _words_ when Connor is smiling at him like that, so he nods tightly and prays that Connor knows what he’s getting into.

“I wasn’t entirely sure you’d say yes just then,” Connor admits, rocking on his feet, edging just the slightest bit closer into Evan’s space. “I was really starting to sweat, Hansen.”

Their hands are still clasp together between them and they’re partially blocking the door into Evan’s classroom. People pass around them without comment, but Evan can feel their eyes on him, knows that Connor and him make an interesting picture with the way they’re huddled up, barely any space between them. He forces himself not to care too deeply about it, focuses his attention instead on the way Connor is looking at him, as though Evan is something precious.

“You should probably call me Evan.” He says, when it feels like he can speak again without passing out. “If we’re really doing this.”

“Oh, we’re doing this.” Connor confirms, a hint of laughter in his voice.

Using his grip on Evan’s hand to tug him the rest of the way, Connor plants a kiss on Evan’s cheek, only the barest of pressure before he’s pulling away. His eyes zero in on Evan’s face immediately afterward, no doubt taking in the spectacular blush that follows. “See you after class, Evan.” 

And with that, Connor leaves him, flashing Evan only a smile before he’s out of sight, lost amongst the sea of students trudging along to their next class.

_Okay_ , Evan thinks to himself.

_Okay._


	3. Chapter 3

Hope creeps up on Evan at the oddest times it seems.

It’s after Connor leaves him, standing stunned outside his classroom, the memory of his lips flush against Evan’s cheek still fresh in his head, the heat of it and the promise behind it, that Evan thinks he might actually choke on it.

 _After class_ , Connor had said. _See you after class_.

It’s a promise that Evan repeats back to himself at his desk, eyes directed unseeingly at the whiteboard. He can’t get it out of his head. Finds it next to impossible to focus on anything else.

It’s fortunate then, that Connor doesn’t make him wait long.

He intercepts Evan in the hall during their lunch period, linking their fingers together before tugging him away from the cafeteria. They walk through the already bustling quad, Connor’s grip on Evan’s hand firm as the other boy weaves seamlessly through the crowd. Instead of stopping at any of the open tables, like Evan expects, Connor ends up leading him to the edge of campus, toward a smattering of tables hidden on the other side of the old art building.

The spot is quiet and tucked away. Wisteria vines cascade down the side of the old building, tufts of lavender flowers blossoming against the brick.

“It’s nice over here, right?” Connor asks, drawing Evan closer as his pace slows. “Less people.”

_He doesn’t want to be seen with you._

It’s the thought that comes unbidden to Evan’s mind as he takes a seat at one of the empty tables. Because why else would he bring Evan to some tucked away corner of the school? Why else would he bring Evan here?

Evan frowns at himself almost immediately, embarrassed.

_Because you’re shy. And he knows that you’d freak out anywhere else._

Connor smiles at him, softly, like he can sense Evan’s hesitance. Takes his own seat across from Evan and leans forward like he wants to reach out but won’t. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out why.

 _He wants me to feel comfortable_ , Evan realizes, some of that awful pressure inside him relenting.

He still feels fragile under Connor’s gaze, like one wrong move and he might shatter into a million pieces. Because this is what his brain does, time and time again. This is what Dr. Sherman would call spiraling and it’s not helpful _,_ it does nothing but turn a mildly difficult situation into a disastrous one, all in a matter of seconds, and Evan knows how this tends to go.

His brain won’t stop. He messes up. They _leave_.

Only, Connor is still smiling, and that has to mean something.

Air fills Evan’s lungs a little easier. Tension bleeds from his body in a steady trickle.

With a great deal of caution, Evan eases his good hand across the table, palm open and inviting. Connor deftly joins their hands without missing a beat.

“It’s nice,” Evan agrees.

He offers Connor a timid sort of smile and Connor’s answering grin is dazzling.

A part of Evan aches just looking at it.

*

A week passes by and nothing falls apart.

Nothing breaks like Evan expects it to.

His heart is still beating.

Fingers laced together, Connor continues to drag him along wherever he goes regardless of who’s looking, continues to corner Evan into tight spaces, pulls him close when he can get away with it, keeps him closer when Evan lets him. And it’s so easy for Evan to imagine that they’re— that this is just a _normal_ part of life now.

He didn’t believe it could be before, but he’s trying, he’s trying so _fucking_ hard to believe it now.

Evan lets himself hope.

*

“But seriously, where the fuck have you been?” Jared asks, jerking his locker shut with a bang. “I’ve barely seen you.”

Evan picks at his cast distractedly and sighs. He really should have prepared himself for this. Because Jared gets like this sometimes. Gets a little whiny and somewhat overbearing when Evan gets distracted by other things. Other _people_.

“I’ve been busy.” Evan emphasizes, and not for the first time, either. His eyes dart around the hallway, on the lookout for Connor’s familiar lanky frame. “I’m allowed to be busy.”

He sounds defensive to his own ears and feels himself wilt preemptively.

Right on cue, Jared laughs, obnoxiously loud, and adjusts his backpack with a jerky shrug of his shoulder. “Busy with what?”

He opens his mouth, ready to lie if he has to, when Evan feels an arm wrap around his waist from behind, warm heat pressing flush along his back. He tilts his chin up, craning his neck just in time for Connor to press a noisy kiss against his cheek.

“You hiding from me, Hansen?” Connor’s warm breath tickles Evan’s cheek. “You weren’t by your locker.”

Evan shakes his head, going pink.

“Not hiding,” he denies quickly, blush deepening. “Just talking to Jared.”

Connor tilts his head away from Evan’s for a moment, offering Jared a small nod of acknowledgement. “What up Kleinman?”

Jared doesn’t say anything at first, just gives Connor a confused sort of look. Directs the same look at Evan after a moment. Head tilting, eyes swinging between the two of them. Connecting the dots.

He slides one final, not-so-discreet glance at Evan, one that clearly reads _‘holy fucking shit’_.

“Wow, Evan.” Jared says, flat as his voice can go. “Busy?”

Evan feels his face heat up and he squirms shyly in the cradle of Connor’s arms.

“It just s-sort of happened.”

“I seduced him.” Connor chimes in, smugly, dragging Evan closer. “Clearly.”

“Yeah, clearly.” Jared parrots back, forcing a smile. “Hey, Evan. Buddy? Can we talk?”

He quirks an eyebrow at Connor. “Alone?”

Evan twists in Connor’s hold, sending him a pleading look. “I’m just going to finish up with Jared, okay? It, uh, shouldn’t take long.”

Connor smiles crookedly down at him, obviously amused. “Do you want me to wait for you?”

Evan shakes his head sharply.

“No, no, it’s fine. I’ll catch up with you.” Evan rushes out, painfully aware of Jared’s eyes greedily drinking in the exchange.

He hates the attention, feels himself shrink under it, but not enough to stop Evan from grasping at Connor’s jacket as he makes a move to pull away or from winding his fingers around the material to reel the other boy close enough that he can plant a quick parting kiss of his own into Connor’s cheek while he can.

Connor’s smile is nearly blinding when he pulls back. “See you in a little bit?”

“It shouldn’t take long.” Evan says again. He knows Connor heard him the first time and doesn’t exactly mind either way. He says it anyway and makes himself let go.

Connor looks at him a beat longer before he’s turning on his heel, disappearing among the milling body of students.

Evan can’t help but watch him go.

That is, until Jared pokes him sharply in the shoulder, breaking his gaze. “Dude, what the actual fuck?”

“I know, okay?” Evan says, swatting Jared’s hand away, turning back toward him. “It surprised me too. Obviously.”

“Way to go about burying the lead then.” Jared whispers harshly. “This is so wild. I’m honestly struggling to come to terms with it. It boggles the mind!”

Evan’s mouth twists into a frown. “Sorry?”

Jared shakes his head, holding up a hand. “So, you’re dating?”

“Uh huh.” Evan admits shortly, unable to articulate it any better than that.

Jared makes a low noise of disbelief in response. “He’s so insanely out of your league it’s almost offensive.”

Evan wants to hit him.

“You think I don’t know that?” Evan hisses, pulling at the hem of his shirt, embarrassed. His heart is pounding in his throat now. Painfully. “What’s your point?”

The other boy shrugs, seemingly unaware or unconcerned with the shade of red Evan’s turning. “I don’t know. Good for you, I guess? Connor Murphy’s fucking hot as shit at this school. You’ve pretty much married into royalty.”

“We’ve only been talking for like a week.”

“Like that matters.” Jared shoots back. “Just don’t forget me when you’re rubbing elbows at parties with the social elite.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Evan says, rubbing a hand across his face. He pauses immediately after, the gist of Jared’s words sinking in. It takes Evan a second to unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth and another to open it. “Do you really think he expects me to hang out with the popular kids?”

Jared snorts. “Who knows? Just do what you’re doing and don’t fuck it up.”

Annoyed, Evan rolls his eyes, glancing away. He clears his throat. “Look, I’ve got to get going.”

“Wouldn’t want to leave Connor waiting, right?”

He’s not wrong, but Evan groans all the same, shoving Jared weakly before taking a step back. “I’ll text you later, okay?”

Leaning back against his locker, Jared slaps one of his best shit-eating grins. “Of course. I want all the sordid details. Make sure not to leave anything out. I’m living vicariously through you from now on.”

“Stop it.” Evan grates out, mostly out of instinct, the words lacking any real heat. “I’m n-not going to tell you that stuff, Jared. _Jesus_.”

“You say that,” Jared goes on. “But when Connor goes down on you for the first time you’re going to want to share that experience with someone.”

Evan tries, and hopefully succeeds, to look like the idea of Connor going down on him doesn’t make his insides flutter strangely with interest.

He takes another hurried step back.

“I’ll text you.” He repeats, abruptly and too loud. “About hanging out!” He adds quickly, flushing. “Not the other thing.”

Across the hall, Jared has the fucking gall to wink.


End file.
